More than Love
by Mayet
Summary: Tie-in and continuation oneshots to my story Love is not enough, prompted and original ones. (I don't own H50.)
1. To feel

**More than Love**

**Summary:** Tie-in and continuation oneshots to my story Love is not enough, prompted and original ones.

**Pairings:** Steve/Cath, minor Kono/Adam and Danny/Gabby

**A/N:** Okay, this is the first oneshot. It's not one I was prompted for, but I thought it would be a good place to start. I'm working on your requests. I've decided to try to put them in a sensible order because the way I'm mapping these oneshots in my mind, they're close-knit enough to become something between an actual sequel and snippets.

**Chapter 1:** **To feel**

The casket was open so that everyone may say one final goodbye to a woman who had swept into their lives like a hurricane, and then left them again just as quickly. He examined her quietly as he stood above her. Wo Fat had shot her in the chest, everything had been soaked in blood, but the funeral director and his staff had done an excellent job. She had been carefully cleaned, and dressed in a simple black gown that hid the entrance wound beneath its inky cloth. Her eyes were closed, her hands rested peacefully over her stomach, a single white rose pinned beneath them. She looked asleep rather than dead, and Steve almost expected her to open her eyes, and tell him off for continuing to stare at her, but he knew that would not happen.

He placed a hand on the side of her face before he bent down to kiss her forehead. He grasped her hands once, then turned around and walked back to where his extended family was waiting for him. He rejoined them, wrapping an arm around his sister just as he felt Catherine's fingers intertwine with his, and her hand squeezing his tightly. He felt her touch anchor him, trying to give him comfort they both knew he wasn't sure he needed. His mother had been ripped from him again, this time for good, and all he could feel was numbness. He was sorry for her death, but it hadn't left him crippled or weeping. He couldn't seem to mourn her the way a mother deserved to be mourned. His relationship with her since her return had been anything but close, and, of course, she had lied to him repeatedly, so that may account for some of his lack of grief. Nonetheless, her death left him numb, for which he felt guilt, not regret.

He didn't think he could mourn her as he had already done so twenty years ago. He felt like he had spent every tear, every heartache over her death already, and now there was only pliant acceptance left. He had buried her twenty years ago. When he'd found her again, he had barely been able to believe his own eyes. Now she was gone again, and it felt almost as if she had never been here in the first place. Standing there, at his mother's funeral, he felt more like sixteen again than thirty-six, only this time he could see her in her casket assuring himself that this was truly final. In Steve's eyes, his need to make sure she had truly died spoke volumes of his sickly relationship with his mother. He felt like a monster for not being able to grieve for her, yet this whole day seemed more like a wrap-up of something long overdue than an emotionally draining experience.

When he'd shared these thoughts with Catherine the previous night, she'd smiled sadly at him. She had suggested that he may be in shock or in denial about his mother's death, and he'd agreed that he half expected her to get up and walk away, or to find her in some dead end village on the other side of the world. Despite their explanations they both knew that wasn't all there was to it, and the guilt had been so overwhelming that he had known then that he wouldn't get any sleep that night. Catherine must have known to, because she pulled him to her, let him snuggle into her, and gently pulled her fingers through his hair in a way she knew he found comforting. She hadn't told him it would be alright, and perhaps that was what he was most grateful for. He didn't need any sweet, sentimental nothings to make his guilt even worse. She'd just stayed with him, stayed close to him, and let him glean what comfort he could from her presence.

He watched numbly as they closed the coffin, and lowered it into the ground. She would be buried right next to his and Mary's father, and not for the first time did he wonder whether she had really loved them at all, or if they had just been a cover story. He shot that thought down with a vengeance. It was a moot point pondering that now; he would never get answers anymore, and he rather preferred thinking that she did. He might have never had the courage to ask. She was still their mother, and, even if he questioned her methods, he would believe that she had honestly tried to protect them through her death.

The time it took to fill up the freshly dug grave and the subsequent drive home were a blur for him. He inattentively shook people's hands, and thanked them for their condolences, but he was barely paying attention. Later he wouldn't be sure if anything at all had had his attention in those long minutes. He felt like a sleep-walker or someone on autopilot. He went through all the motions of a grieving son who had just buried his mother, but he didn't feel any of them. His surroundings didn't register, and he barely even recognized the governor when he extended his most sincere condolences for his loss. As so often before, it was Danny who finally brought him back from his semi-consciousness.

"You looked like you needed a beer," his friend told him as he came to stand beside him. They were standing on the lanai in front of his house where they had decided to hold a small wake for Doris McGarrett. Danny handed a blinking Steve a Longboard he had brought over with him, and the two men took a couple of swigs in companionable silence until Danny spoke up again. "I'd say I'm sorry for your loss, but I have a feeling it would not be entirely appreciated."

Steve let that prompt stand between them for another few seconds.

"You have talked to Catherine, I take it."

"No, but you apparently have. Normally I'd be making a jibe at how you're finally learning, but that, too, would probably not be appreciated right now. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Steve groaned out in frustration, letting the comment about his former inadequacy as a boyfriend slide. "That's just it. I feel nothing... well, no, that's not true. I feel... numb. Like I'm incapable of grieving. It's almost like I'm expecting her to show up her, and celebrate her own wake with us."

Danny studied him for a moment. Steve looked truly frustrated with himself and with the situation. He obviously didn't know what to make of his complete lack of response to his mother's death. When they'd rescued him from Wo Fat, Danny had thought that Steve's apparent lack of emotion was equally due to his SEAL training and the near-death experience he had just gone through, but it seemed to have persisted. Perhaps he shouldn't be surprised at this turn of events. He had no doubt that Steve had spent the better part of his life trying to move on from his mother's supposed death, and all the catastrophic ramifications for his family that followed it.

"Maybe you just need more time;" Danny suggested. "She faked her death once; it's understandable if you were in denial about the situation. And let's not forget that you're a highly trained whatsit, and you were probably taught to compartmentalized everything."

Steve couldn't help but give an undignified chortle. His mother's wake was definitely not the best place to be so callous even if only his closest friends were here. The only people here who weren't part of his ohana were Catherine's parents, and they had already made up their mind about him no matter what he said or did, but he should be more considerate for Mary. His sister was grieving, and he didn't need to flaunt his inability to; it would only hurt her.

"Danny, she is not coming back. I know that."

"Yeah, you know that here," Danny answered without missing a beat, lightly knowing on the side of his head. Steve threw him a glance, and Danny went on to poke him in the chest. "What about here?"

Steve wanted to roll his eyes, he really did, but when he turned to look at Danny, the detective brought his finger up to snub him under his chin. Childish as it was, it did help to lighten Steve's mood. They grinned at each other for a moment, and when Danny told him it would be alright, he decided to believe him. He hadn't been ready to hear it last night, but maybe it was time to give in, and let someone else take the reins on this one. A little reassurance had never hurt anybody, and being made fun of, then being reassured by his best friend made him feel less like a monster and more like himself. It would be sad day indeed if Danny ever, for one moment agreed with him on anything.

"Look around you, Steven," Danny prompted him, and his use of Steve's full name meant he was serious. "What do you see?"

He saw a private beach full of people he cared about, and who cared for him in return. Kono was talking to Jack, no doubt exchanging some pointers for the better handling of rifles. Gabby was watching as his SEAL brother entertained Grace. Mick was doing little magic tricks that made the little girl's eyes light up, and pester him with questions because she wanted to learn them all. Chin was coming up to join them, leaving Catherine to talk to her parents. He could see her throw a look in his direction, something between a warning and a cry for help. He couldn't see Mary until he spotted her standing to one side with Carlos, and frowned. He knew Carlos would never try anything without talking to him first, but he also knew that the silver-tongued man had enough dirt on him to give his sister blackmail material for the rest of his life. He contemplated going over there, and breaking their little chat up, but Mary was at least somewhat smiling again, and the relief of seeing that felt to good to ruin it.

"I see.. ohana," Danny answered his own question, "and by the look on your face, so do you. We're here for you, babe."

"I know. I just... I wish there was something left in me to mourn her with."

"There is, and you'll find it," his partner informed him with absolute confidence. "You just need someone to poke you in the right spot, and burst this bubble of indifference."

5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0

Mary had gone to bed early, even before everyone had left. Steve didn't particularly feel like doing the dishes, and despite his neat freak qualities enhanced by the Navy, he only put away the left-over food, and placed the dirty dishes in the sink. He would do them tomorrow. He could hear quiet voiced coming from the other room where Catherine was talking to her parents. They were the last to leave. After everything they didn't really want to leave their daughter out of their sight at all, and he didn't blame them. Wanting to give them the space they needed and deserved, Steve briefly checked on his sister. He found Mary curled up on her bed, still in her simple black dress. The only item of clothing she had taken off had been her shoes, and her legs were still half-hanging off the bed. He moved her more fully onto the mattress, grabbed a blanket, and covered her with it gently. He kissed her goodnight, and went to the living room. He was greeted by Admiral Thomas Rollins who extended a hand toward him.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Commander McGarrett." Steve studied the older man in front of him. While he had used the standard formula, the SEAL could tell that the other man was sincere in what it expressed. Even as he took the Admiral's hand, though, his gaze wandered over the man's shoulder to an apologetic looking Catherine.

"Thank you, sir, but I don't think that is all you have to say to me."

"It can wait until another time, son."

"Respectfully, sir – no, it can not. The last time we discussed about this, Cath was very upset, and if that's what is going to happen, I want it over with, and I want you out of my house, sir." He felt a sting of irritation rising in himself, and after days of numbness, he welcomed it. It was good to feel something other than guilt and indifference again even if the feeling was by no means positive, and he held no illusions about the outcome of this conversation either. He wanted to get this out of the way, though he couldn't honestly say he gave a damn about Admiral Rollins' opinion. Sure, he wanted the man to respect him, but he could live and build something with Catherine just fine without it. He refused to let go of her again, no matter the reason. He's stupidly done so once, and it had nearly cost him such a large part of himself that he'd been utterly lost. It had made him realize how deeply Catherine had been woven into the fabric of his existence. He would never willingly go through that again.

"Commander!", Mrs Rollins gasped.

"Ma'am," Steve acknowledged, then turned back to Cath's father. "Admiral or not, I do not have to let you into my house."

The Admiral raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing, merely motioned for him to lead the way to the kitchen. They left the two women alone in the living room; Steve could see Catherine make a move to follow them, but her mother caught her arm, and shook her head. She threw him one last glance from her worried dark eyes, asking if it was alright to stay with her mother. He gave her a reassuring nod as he stopped to let his superior into the kitchen first. Steve carefully closed the door, and turned to face the Admiral again, only to find himself face to face with an expression of intrigued scrutiny.

There were a few moments of silence as the two men sized each other up. They were both wearing their dress blues, and Steve realized that he wanted the Admiral's respect if possible, but didn't care about his opinion on his love life with Catherine. Admiral Rollins was a highly decorated officer, a former SEAL himself, and he still handled SEAL deployment which had further complicated Steve's relationship with Catherine due to her father's disapproval. Nonetheless, here they were, and it was time to get this over with.

"Commander, what do you think I think of you?", the Admiral surprisingly asked.

"I honestly don't know, sir, but if our last conversation on my relationship with Catherine is any indication, I would say you're not overly fond of me."

"Commander, you're getting ahead of yourself, and calling what you and my daughter had back then a relationship is a bit of a stretch, don't you think?"

Steve sighed.

"Respectfully, sir, you were the one who pointed out to me that I was falling without even knowing it."

"Yes, I did. Commander, you're an excellent SEAL, and my division has felt your absence since you went to the reserves. I never doubted that you were a good man, I just didn't approve of what your acquaintance with Catherine entailed. I also can't say I was too impressed by your complete disregard for my telling you to stay away from her, despite telling me that you had understood."

"I didn't lie," Steve admitted freely. "I had understood, and I told Catherine about it. She wanted to comply with your... request. I didn't. In hindsight I think that's when I realized that she did mean something more to me, but I remember thinking that I would not let you dictate my life just because you didn't like my association with your daughter. It's almost ironic how it was your disapproval that made me want to know her better."

"Behind my back?", the Admiral asked in a tone that was almost amused. Steve didn't know where this was going anymore; he had expected the Admiral to repeat his warning of staying away from his daughter, especially after she was kidnapped and tortured because of him. The older man didn't seem so disapproving anymore, and Steve couldn't reconcile this new docile Admiral with the man who had told him in no uncertain terms that he wanted him to break it off with Catherine four years ago.

"It's not like we were sneaking around, sir, and I never lied to her about what I wanted out of our... acquaintance, as you call it, back then. I didn't encourage any expectations that I wasn't planning to meet, and, quite frankly, she hadn't exactly been looking for anything herself, sir," Steve defended himself, but amended slightly as he saw the Admiral's face harden. "I will admit that I also wasn't completely honest with her in regards to my intentions. It took me too long to accept that you were right, and then again to do something about it, but I'm there now, and I have no intention of backing down."

"Oh, I realize that. I'm pretty sure I knew it was serious before either of you understood."

"Sir, I don't follow."

"Haven't you ever wondered why I never came after you again even when I realized that you'd ignored my warning?", the Admiral asked, tiredly. "Catherine's letters. She had started writing home about you. She didn't use your name, and they were just side notes, really, but the fact that she mentioned you at all was more than she has done for half of her boyfriends in high school. My main concern had been that being with a Navy man, she might have to give up her own career and move around all the time. The fact that you are a SEAL didn't help either. She'd never know where you are, and whether or nor you'd make it back. I'll admit to being relieved when I she wrote home that you'd settled here, and would be joining the reserves."

Steve was too stunned to say anything. His gaze flickered between the door and the man, half-contemplating to go out there, and ask her if it were true. He had never written letter home himself – at least not the kind the Admiral was talking about. His letters never really extended beyond _good mission, team is doing fine_ or _mission went wrong, some casualties, I'm in hospital_. They were written proof of the disharmony in his relationship with his father, and how they had never managed to work it out. He had seen her mull over a few of her letters home when he had been with her during leave, and he had been glad for her that, despite her problems with her parents, she could still communicate with them, but he'd never pried into what she was writing about, and the thought that he might be a part of it had never crossed his mind. To be fair, though, he had been rather distracted by other... _parts_, and she had easily giving in to his distractions as well.

"After everything that's happened, I can see that your life has gotten no less dangerous, but my daughter says she loves you, and she is not giving you up... I saw you at the hospital. You love her, too, and that's good enough for me. Just don't hurt her, and do look after her, or else..."

With one last, slightly mischievous smile, the Admiral left him alone in the kitchen.

_I really need to take her to dinner_, Steve thought absentmindedly.

Without further ado the Admiral walked back to his wife, and they said their goodbyes. Steve didn't bother walking them to the door, and when he moved from the spot where he'd stood stunned into the living room, he found Catherine waiting for him with worried eyes. She looked at him apologetically. He glanced from her, to the door through which his last guests had left, then toward Mary's room, and back to his girlfriend again. Without warning the weight of the entire day came crashing down on him. From not sleeping the night before to his mother's funeral to the numbness and guilt he felt and the nervous anxiety mixed with irritation at the discussion with Catherine's parents had loomed over him.

The Admiral had been right that this was neither the place nor the time, but he had been intent on getting it over with. He had been sure of disapproval and rejection, and the unexpected acceptance of his girlfriend's father had taken him so completely aback that it had shaken him. Danny had been right all along; it was inside of him. He had just needed something to shake it loose, and now he'd found it. He felt like he'd been sleep-walking through the whole day, and was now finally awakened, ripped from this peaceful dream-like state that had encompassed him since this morning.

He continued to look at Catherine as he began shaking like a leaf. His vision began to swim with unshed tears, and he felt about ready to crumble to the floor in pieces. Catherine was with him in an instant, a hand on his cheek as she guided him back to the couch. She tried to make him sit down, but he instead knelt next to where she sat on the ground, his back bent to lay his head onto her thigh. Her hand went into his hair, stroking gently, and he could feel her bending over him as she tried to get even closer to comfort him. No sound came from him, but his body was shaken by silent sobs, tears slowly making their way down his face and onto her leg because his mother was not going to miraculously appear in a small Japanese village this time. He had buried her today, her casket open so they could say goodbye, and regret suddenly filled him at not having taken the chance.

He knew he would not get any sleep tonight either.

**End **

**A/N:** I thought it might be difficult for Steve to mourn his mother, partially because of his training, and partially because, for all intents and purposes, she died on him twenty years ago. He clearly couldn't trust her after he found her again, and their relationship wasn't very close from what I've seen on the show. I haven't actually seen anything since 3x11, though, so I might have missed something. I just think he'd need a push to grieve for her the way someone naturally grieves for their mother.


	2. Fear

**More than Love**

**Summary:** Tie-in and continuation oneshots to my story Love is not enough, prompted and original ones.

**Pairings:** Steve/Cath, minor Kono/Adam and Danny/Gabby

**Fear**

_Slowly opening her eyes as pain invaded her system, she could not believe where she was. She was back in that godforsaken warehouse, hanging from the ceiling with rivets of blood making their way down her body and soaking her clothes. She could feel the burn marks tingling and her joints complaining every movement but also the absolute lack thereof. Her wrists were sore and bleeding; she could feel the shackles biting into her skin even further as she tried to relieve some of the ache, some of the pressure. She had no strength to pull herself up, could only hang limply from her constraints. _

_Her mind was foggy. Her world existed of nothing but pain. Looking down at herself, she realized that someone must have started playing with a knife around her. She was cut open in several places all across her body. The cuts weren't deep, but they had bled. Around some of them the skin was glowing in an angry red shade that made her think they were infected. How long had she been here? It must have been at least a few days for the injuries to become infected. They had been left untreated so there was no doubt that her captors intended for her to die here – by their torture or through infection, whichever happened first. _

_A look at her body also made her realize that she had been undressed of her uniform shirt and pants. Nothing but her underwear was covering her modesty, not that that was truly something which should occupy her mind at that moment. She had enough other problems without worrying about showing a little skin. Not that anyone would find anything remotely attractive about her skin anymore. Her underwear had been turned bright red as it had soaked up so much of her blood. She was covered in cuts, bruises and burn marks. Wo Fat had made good on his word to reduce her to a state that not even Steve would want her back._  
_  
The thought of the man she loved cleared her fuzzy mind somewhat. All that blood loss must have slowed down her thinking. Wo Fat had thrown her out of a moving car, and she'd woken up in hospital with Steve hovering close to her bed. He had hit and electrocuted her, but he hadn't cut her, and he hadn't stripped her down. So how come she was back here, and in the grips of new height of pain? She didn't understand what was going on. She turned to look to her side, and that movement provoked a searing pain in every muscle of her neck. She would have screamed in agony, but she could not find her voice_

_Somehow she managed, and she saw the petite hooded figure looking back at her. Wo Fat had killed Doris, but she seemed to be sitting right there, still witness to every horrible thing the arms dealer did to her. Catherine began shaking her head in disbelief. She paid no mind to the agonizing pain that raced through her every nerve; this couldn't be real. They had buried Doris McGarrett just a few days ago. She remembered that. She remembered staying awake with Steve the night before, comforting him during the ceremony, talking to their friends and her parents. She remembered holding onto his shaking form as grief finally took him. Doris McGarrett was dead; she could not be sitting there a few feet from her. _

_She simply could not._

"_Catherine." That was her voice. "Catherine, I'm so sorry."_

_She just kept shaking her head, turning away fro the older woman, because this couldn't be real, and she was not in the habit of talking to ghosts. Doris McGarrett was dead and buried. Yet Catherine's mind quickly supplied her with the question of what she was to do if the woman was alive. What if it had all been a dream, a nice, wonderful little fantasy. Not perfect, Doris' death certainly proved that, but a happy ending nonetheless. What if she had never left that warehouse, if Wo Fat had not given her back to Steve? She had suffered severe blood loss. It was not in the realm of impossibility that she had passed out, and dreamt it all up. All of it. Her rescue, the time in the hospital, Steve's declaration of love. That truly seemed like something that might have sprung from her imagination, though he had actually said the words before. She had been so dumbfounded and so happy when he had said it all again in the hospital – when he had promised her no more doubts, no more running. _

_It would mean that there was still a chance to save Doris._

_It would mean that she was still stuck hanging from a ceiling, and waiting to be tortured._

_As selfish as it was, she didn't want to believe that it was all just a dream._

_Footsteps informed her that someone was approaching her from behind. She tried to look around, but the pain could not longer be ignored, and she gave up. The man, Wo Fat no doubt, stopped directly behind her. She could feel his warmth seeping into her uncovered skin. His hands grasped her hips, and moved along her body as he slowly rounded on her. As his face came into view, Catherine choked out a strangled sob, and tears sprung to her eyes. The man before her wasn't Wo Fat or one of his goonies._

_It was Ben._

_She'd known deep down that he had betrayed her, but to com to this. She tried to shake her head again, because this couldn't be happening. Ben had not been present at her torture. He had not participated in it. A fact he was intent to amend, it seemed, as he slowly took a knife from where it was secured at his belt. The blade was covered in dried blood. He had not bothered to clean it after his initial torment of her._

"_There you are, Cathy," he taunted evenly. "The guys didn't think you'd make it this time, but I knew you would."_

_Oh God, she really had never left! He caressed her face with the blunt side of the knife._

"_You are a fighter after all. You can take a little rough handling, can't you, Cathy?"_

"_She tried to spit at him, but she had no saliva left, and the movement only served to make the knife bite into her cheek._

"_Still such fight in you, huh?", he asked, then slapped her across the face. "A woman after my own heart. Pity you went back to screwing McGarrett. We could have been so good together. You're wasted on him."_

_He moved to stabilize her face, then turned it around to get a good look at the cut. He leaned in, and his tongue came out to lick the trickle of blood away. Then he kissed her, forcing her mouth open so she could taste her own blood on his tongue. Before she could bite him, however, he had retreated again. She spit at him again, this time spraying him with the mixture of his own saliva and her blood that he had left in her mouth. He laughed at her for her effort._

"_Oh Cathy, I wish I could keep you. I still might take... a souvenir. I wasn't your first, but maybe I could be your last. Can't let McGarrett have that, can I?" He approached her again, lifting her legs up to wrap them around his waist, earning himself a strangled cry from her at how much the sudden movement hurt. Not there was ever a breather from the pain. Her core came into alignment with his, and he held her to him. His knife was pressed flat against her back, and he was looking at her intently as if searching for a sign of fear in her dark eyes. Catherine set her jaw and steadied her gaze. She felt fear and revulsion at his touch, but she was loathe to let him know that. He would read nothing from her face. He grasped her face again, the knife splayed against her unhurt cheek. "Pity to destroy something so beautiful."_

_Then she watched with her heart in her throat as the knife moved over her face, and the blade descended into her flesh._

"And that's when I woke up," Catherine finished her account for Commander Klesko as the psychiatrist scribbled something onto her pad. A shiver ran through her at remembering the vividness of the dream. "He was never in my dreams of that day before. He wasn't there; he doesn't belong there.

"How does this change make you feel?", the older woman asked.

Catherine stood up from her chair in a huff, and paced around the office. She hated these questions. She was never sure what to say to them. She didn't know how anything of what had transpired with Ben and Wo Fat made her feel. Things were so complicated now. In that moment all she had was the instinct to survive, and that was all that mattered. Now, after all was said and done, there were other things to consider. She had found out early on that lying in a hammock was out of the question for the time being; the suspension gave her flashbacks and a panic attack. Same with having her arms held or restrained in any way. She was more skittish and jumpy now than she had been after Petty Officer Derryl had tried to kill her. She felt responsible for Doris' death. She knew it wasn't her fault, but the thought wouldn't leave her head that maybe if she had recognized Doris, they might have... Might have what? Nothing could have been done for Doris. Her death was a spontaneous decision on Wo Fat's part.

And Ben. He had been arrested in front of the hospital after making the call that led Five-0 to Wo Fat. Due to this the arms dealer had finally been caught, and killed in the execution of the police raid. Still, if only she'd realized sooner what he was; that he was planted, they might have been able to avoid so much. Or would they have?

"I should have guessed," she finally burst out, sitting down again. Commander Klesko raised an eyebrow, silently asking her to elaborate. "That Ben wasn't who he said he was. That it was all a set up."

"How could you have known?"

"It was too perfect. I realize that now. I just broke up with Steve, and a week later I meet this guy who's almost like the lighter, less emotionally stunted version of my SEAL? What are the odds? I should have known."

"It might have been a coincidence."

"Those take a lot of planning."

"That's an idiom I didn't know yet," Commander Klesko said with a smile.

"Chin... uh, a friend of Steve says it all the time. I'm inclined to agree."

"And that makes you feel guilty?"

"I don't feel guilty, exactly, more...like an idiot."

"Being Navy Intelligence does not make you a mind reader, LT. Nobody expects you to know everything, and neither should you." Commander Klesko decided to break protocol a little. She was not supposed to voice opinions or make statements. She was hear to ask questions, assess the trauma, and help her patients talk themselves out of the emotional repercussions and into a healed state.

"Easier said than done, Ma'am."

The commander paused for a brief moment. Lieutenant Rollins seemed to be truly upset with herself over her inability to see through Ben Foster's charade. More importantly, Commander Klesko thought that she might feel guiltier still over her repeated nightmares. The older woman was relatively certain that the young officer was mostly frustrated because she didn't feel like she was making any progress. She saw that a lot and in all kinds of patients. People didn't like to come to her, because the automatic societal connotation was that there must be something seriously wrong with them, some mental disease or other, just because they needed help, needed to talk about their problems. Well, at least for Lieutenant Rollins she could alleviate some fears today.

"If it helps, you're making good progress."

Catherine Rollins looked at her in complete disbelief.

"How am I making progress?!", she asked with an undignified snort. "After six weeks of therapy I'm still incredibly jumpy. I have nightmares every other night, and now my psychopath of an ex-boyfriend turns up in dreams of things for which he was not even present. He wasn't there when I was tortured. Short of knocking me out the night I was kidnapped, he never lay a hand on me, yet there he is in my dreams, cutting me up like pork loin. How is this progress?"

"First of all, I disagree with you being incredibly jumpy. You are, in fact, a lot calmer than you were when you first came to me. You have also opened up, telling me freely about what bothers you while I basically had to drag it from you during our first couple of sessions. Ah, at least you have the decency to look ashamed of yourself. Good. That was bloody hard work, let me tell you."

That brought a smile to Catherine's lips.

"You can joke about this, not to mention the 'pork loin' comment; those are very good signs indeed, and I apologize for what I said just now. That was very unprofessional of me, but I wanted to make a point."

Catherine rolled her eyes, though she had to admit that she was rather nonchalant when talking about it. When she had first woken up, though... It didn't feel like progress then.

"Most importantly, tell me, what is the first thing you become aware of when you wake up, and how long does it take you?"

"Steve's voice," she said without thinking about it. "I instantly recognize Steve's voice, and then his arms around me. It's like I home in on him. He anchors me."

_She woke with a start, almost sitting upright in bed. Steve's voice was murmuring softly to her. She couldn't make out what he was saying, but he had sat up with her, and his lips were moving against her hair. There was a weight on her side. She reached down instinctively, and his hand wrapped around hers when she reached it. His arm pulled her closer to him until her back was firmly pressed against his chest. Even in their semi-upright position, she could feel the strong plains of his body. He was holding her to him, guiding her back down onto the mattress. His nose was softly brushed against her ear. Tears were beginning to stream down her face as her heart rate slowed to a normal level. He always woke up before her when she had a nightmare, almost like he could tell she was in distress even in his sleep. He woke up, and would gently bring her back to the waking world as well, and she loved him for it, but she hated doing this to him. She hated that she woke him up every other night when he had to get up early anyway._

_Sensing her distress again, he turned her around to face him, and brushed her tears away. His eyes were wide awake to take her in as she mumbled her usual apologies. As every other night he waved them away, and held her tighter instead. Now their chests were squashed together, and she could feel his heart hammering against her chest. Her nightmare had caused him almost as much agitation as herself. Fresh tears pricked at her eyes, and she really needed to get control over that; she hated being a crybaby. He nestled her head against one arm, and snaked the other one more fully around her. His hand on her back was like a furnace, spreading warmth through her chilled body. Whereas Ben's touch in the dream had been burning, revolting to her very core, Steve's gentle, soothing caress along her back made her genuinely happy. She gave him a kiss to which he lazily responded, then she snuggled closer into him, and drifted back off to sleep. _

"And how does that make you feel?", Commander Klesko asked, bemused as she had noticed the Lieutenant's mind wandering off. Catherine threw her a glance. The woman knew what she thought of those kinds of questions.

"Safe. I've always felt safe in Steve's arms. Like nothing can hurt me," she answered wistfully. "It took him seven years to tell me he loved me, but I always knew, because there would be those moments. I could tell from the very first time. He would look at me like there was nothing but me in his entire world. And the world would fall away."

Commander Klesko smiled. Her patient had just answered her own question. The jumpiness would not go away over night. Neither would the nightmares, but Lieutenant Rollins was string. She had set herself firmly on the path towards healing, and she was dealing with it. Lieutenant Commander McGarrett's presence was certainly helping her along a lot. She just needed to make sure not to become too dependent. From what she knew of the couple they relied on each other equally, and the Lieutenant did not strike her like the kind of woman who would give up her independence for a man.

"I guess our hour is up," the psychiatrist commented. "You have an appointment scheduled for next week?"

Rollins nodded.

"Lieutenant, you know you're always welcome to see me about anything, and I would like to keep our weekly appointments for now to monitor your progress, but I don't think it is me you need to talk to," she informed the younger woman calmly as she walked her to the door. Lieutenant Rollins froze for a second.

"I don't think I can..." She looked at Commander Klesko desperately.

"You'll find the strength within yourself, Catherine. I know it's there. You just have be brave enough to go looking for it."

With these parting words she opened the door to reveal Lieutenant Commander McGarrett pacing anxiously outside her office in wait for his girlfriend. Commander Klesko raised an eyebrow. She was positive the man had not been there when their session began. If she were a betting woman, she would have good money on the theory that the Commander was overcompensating for past oversights. She looked at the other Navy officer beside her, and mentally patted herself on the back for coming to the right conclusion. Catherine Rollins seemed to realize it, too.

"Steve, what are you doing here?"

"I had Danny drop me off-"

"You mean you dropped yourself off in his car, and then finally let him drive it," Catherine asked mischievously.

"You know me too well." The Commander grinned at her while she shook her head.

"You didn't have to come."

"I wanted to." The answer came promptly, but not hastily, and both women could tell that he was telling the truth. The handsome flush on his face made that clear enough by showing them how embarrassed he was. Doting on his girlfriend was obviously not something he was used to doing, nor Catherine Rollins to be at the receiving end of it as she flushed prettily as well. Commander Klesko shook her head. She'd never admit it, but Captain Coulston was right; these two deserved each other. "And it's not like I have a lot to do at the moment. I'm really just pushing pencils at the office."

Catherine nodded. In the fight against Wo Fat, Steve had gotten a few scrapes and bruises. Worst of all, though, was the fissure in his arm. While it hadn't required a cast, the doctor made it absolutely clear that Steve was to rest that arm for the next four to six weeks or a cast would be put on to do the job for him. Her man had been going crazy with nothing to do but filling out paperwork. He wasn't even allowed to train or practice his shooting or go surfing. Swimming and running were also out of the question. Curling up with her on the couch and watching a movie hadn't been too bad, but after a week in a row even Catherine had been going nuts. He had been completely banned from anything that he would consider work or fun. Never mind any other... activities he might find interesting. They had found some ways around _that_. Catherine flushed a little brighter at that thought.

"There's a bathroom just down the floor, LT Rollins. Why don't you take a moment?", Commander Klesko suggested, though she was loathe to interrupt their moment. As amusing as this was, she had the feeling that there was a little more to the Commander's visit than what he was willing to admit in front of his girlfriend. The younger woman nodded, and disappeared down the hall. The psychiatrist turned to Lieutenant Commander McGarrett. "Is there something you wanted to tell me, Commander?"

"I know you can't talk about it, Commander. I... I'm just worried. This whole situation is my fault, and now she's hurting, and she feels guilty because her nightmares wake me up, and I can't do anything. I'm useless to her." The man's face was sombre.

"You're right, I can't talk about anything, but I can give you some advice," she suggested, and continued when the SEAL nodded at her. "Be yourself. Support her when she needs it, give her space when she needs it, let her handle things herself until she tells you about them. Be there for her, but not overbearing. There is no need to hover in front of my office; in the long run it will just make her feel helpless, and we don't want that. Also, respect her decisions. She needs to find her own path out of this. You and everyone else are only along for the ride."

"Pick her up when she stumbles, but let her choose her own course and pace. Got it," he nodded.

"Good. Tell her she is welcome to come to me before our scheduled appointment if she feels like she needs to this week."

Steve looked after her as the psychiatrist went back into her office. Her parting words puzzled him. He wondered if Catherine's condition had worsened. They met several times a week for the first two weeks of her treatment, and were now down to weekly meetings. Had something happened that he wasn't aware of? Then again, the Commander's words would indicate that something was still going to happen that would require Catherine to come back here sooner. He pondered what that could be, but couldn't come up with anything.

He felt a slender hand on his arm, and looked down to find a very serious Catherine looking back up at him. His glance flitted to Commander Klesko's closed door as he realized that this may well be what the older woman had been talking about. Quickly he redirected his questioning expression to Catherine. He saw her swallow, and lick her lips nervously before finally opening her mouth to speak.

"I have to talk to Ben."

**End**

**A/N:** FicreaderT requested a oneshot about trauma management, and here it is. We will see a bit more of Catherine's trauma throughout some of the other oneshots as healing takes time.


	3. Games and Confrontations

**More than Love**

**Summary:** Tie-in and continuation oneshots to my story Love is not enough, prompted and original ones.

**Pairings:** Steve/Cath, minor Kono/Adam and Danny/Gabby

**To Guest (separation fic request):** Thank you for that wonderful prompt. I have actually two ideas to realize it. One is a oneshot or shortfic set during their separation due to Cath being send overseas in season 2.

Your review has also inspired me to a sequel story to the AU version of I Helu Pu I have been thinking of for quite a while. Yes, I know it's weird that I'm thinking about a sequel to a story I haven't actually written yet, but my mind has always worked a little strangely when it comes to fanfiction.

This AU story is actually the next one I plan to work on, though it would still be some time for your request to pop up. I'll write the oneshot/shortfic sometime in between when I have a free moment (it's exam time at my uni). Would that be alright?

**To lilAzIaNpride24:** The first draft for the nightmare story is complete, but it still needs some finishing touches. I'm not quite sure yet where to place it in More than Love. There will be one or two more oneshots before I put it online, because I think it is long overdue for the boys to get to grips with the Kono/Adam situation. Hope you don't mind.

**Games and Confrontations**

Steve cut off the engine, and looked at her. Catherine was pale, but confident. There was an air of uncompromising determination around her. She didn't turn to face him immediately, instead gazing out the windshield at the imposing building in front of them. He knew she would go through with this no matter what he said. If she felt she needed to do this, he would back her up every step of the way, but the thought of letting her anywhere near that animal again, and with only a small glass window to separate them, made him sick to the stomach. Reaching out a hand, he brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, at the same time catching her attention. Catherine turned in her seat to face him as fully as his truck would allow.

"You know you don't have to do this, right?"

"I do, though. Steve, I need answers, and I'm not gonna get them if I don't ask. Please tell me you understand that?"

Oh, he understood, alright. Probably better than anyone. Asking the right questions, and continuing to ask even when the odds were stacked against him was how he had found out about WO Fat and his involvement in his own family's drama. He still had questions he knew he would never be given answers to, because Wo Fat was dead. He could not deny Catherine the chance to put her mind to rest while she still could.

"You're sure you don't want me to come with you?", he asked for the nth time that day alone. She smiled slightly at his insistence, but shook her head in a clear negative. Leaning into his hand, she kissed the palm.

"I have to do this. Alone."

"I don't like the thought of you alone with Foster."

"There will be an officer in the room – an uninvolved officer," she added firmly when she saw him open his mouth to say something. Steve gave her a look, but she remained unfazed. She gripped his hand, and pressed it closer to her cheek. It was so warm. Steve was always warm, and the gentle touch of his calloused hand was like a security blanket for her. No matter how much she wanted to hide away from the world in his embrace, she couldn't live that kind of sheltered life. She needed answers, and Ben had them. It was only a matter of asking, and Commander Klesko had been right; the courage was inside her. She just had to scrap it together. Catherine knew she wouldn't find peace if she didn't find answers first.

"I'll be right outside the door," Steve stated in a tone of voice that allowed no room for discussion, "and if he does anything – anything at all, I'll-"

"Kiss it better?", Catherine suggested with a soft smile as she witnessed the state of agitation to which her boyfriend had worked himself up.

Steve looked at her, a little dumbfounded. She had taken the wind out of his sails with such a short, innocent phrase that she still managed to turn into an innuendo. His anger crumbled a little under her soft gaze, and when she kissed the palm of his hand again, it all but slunk back into the depths of his being. It didn't disappear, but it was appeased for the time being.

"How do you do that?", he asked in a wondrous tone.

"It's not me. You're just smitten," she answered with a wide grin, and he chuckled.

"That I am." He leaned in closer until his forehead touched hers gently. "I have been for the longest time."

Next thing he knew, she was kissing him. There was no space between them, no air to be breathed, and they didn't care. Her hands caressed his cheeks, and his went to cradle the back of her head as her sweet tongue delved into his mouth. Just as quickly as it had begun, Catherine ended their moment of intimacy again. With a mischievous smile, she indicated the guard post just inside the prison gates with her head, reminding him that there was a prison near by if they felt the need to be arrested for public indecency.

"What was that for?", he asked her as she opened the door, and began climbing out of the car. Once she stood beside it, she looked back at him and answered.

"Because I can."

She pushed the door closed, and they made their way into the prison. Steve himself had made the call, so that they wouldn't have to wait long for Ben Foster to be led out to the visiting room. They were standing in front of it now, and Catherine's true nervousness was beginning to show. She paced a few feet up and down in front of the door that would lead her to her meeting, leaving Steve on the other side of it. She had gone a little paler, but her determination to see this through still shone in her eyes. Steve recognized that look, and had he not seen it reflected in her dark orbs, he would have slung her over his shoulder if necessary, but he would have gotten her out of there in a heartbeat.

"You sure?", he asked again, nonetheless. If there was a single doubt in her mind, now was the last chance to back out. When she looked up at him, though, he could see her gaze harden and her jaw set, so he nodded slowly. A prison warden stepped up to them, nodding to McGarrett in respect before turning to Catherine.

"They're ready to lead him inside, ma'am. Just give the sign."

"Thank you, officer." Catherine looked back to Steve for a moment, then she opened the door and went in without hesitation. The warden took that as his cue. Steve couldn't help the worry creeping over his face as his gaze kept flitting between the door and where the warden had disappeared off to.

5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0

Catherine sat down, and took a deep breath to calm herself. Her heart was racing in her chest as if it intended to jump right out of it. Her hands had turned sweaty in the few moments since she'd come into the room, and she had to keep a tight reign on her unusually skittish confidence or she would get up and get out in a heartbeat. She couldn't believe how nervous she was, and was suddenly glad that Steve had insisted on her meeting Ben in the usual visitation room. He had originally wanted to sit down with him in a room apart, like the ones Steve and Danny used to talk prisoners into helping them bring down another bad guy, but Steve had categorically refused to even consider this option. She had been pissed at him, because she had felt like he didn't trust her to take care of herself anymore, like he thought she was some kind of helpless little birdie, but now she was only grateful.

The movement of something orange caught her attention, and brought her out of her reverie. Looking up, she saw that Ben stood in front of her, making no move to sit down. He was clearly surprised to see her, and made a turn to leave again, but the officer who accompanied him wouldn't budge. Not the usual procedure, and she had no doubt that Steve had something to do with it. She was grateful for that, too. She would not let him leave without answering her. Seeing as he had no choice in the matter, Ben sat down, and took the phone. The officer backed away to give them some privacy.

"I would have expected less barriers for a conjugal visit," Ben snorted. Catherine internally bristled with the implication, but didn't let anything show on her face. "Since this is not it, apparently, let's keep this short. What do you want, Cathy?"

Now that she was across from him, and could look him in the eye, Catherine felt a wave of calm wash over her. It was not the happy sort of calm, there was no content in seeing him again. No, this calm was vicious like a cat lying in wait for the perfect opportunity to jump her unsuspecting prey. This man before her, she realized, had nothing to offer her. She wanted answers to find some peace, to know to which extend he had played her, but she was not looking for any kind of redemption for him. Only the answers interested her. She didn't expect remorse, and she wasn't here to grant forgiveness.

"I want to know why," she stated simply.

Ben didn't answer, so she probed him further.

"Why did you play me? What have I ever done to you? When did you become involved with Wo Fat? Were you looking for me the day we met, or was that still genuine? Was the whole thing a set up from the start, or did you truly care for me at one point? Those are the questions I want answers to, and I'm gonna get them."

After she elaborated, Ben bit his lip in contemplation. He studied her for a long time, and she felt herself grow restless under his gaze. She just wanted him to talk. He was already in prison, and wasn't ever getting out again, so why wouldn't he just answer her. Maybe he felt that not answering would bother her more than the answers themselves. She didn't know, but she kept his gaze locked with hers, and she made it clear that she would not back down. At last, a chuckle escaped the man in front of her.

"That was some day, huh?", he asked smiling. Catherine grit her teeth. She did not want to go down memory lane with him.

_(Flashback)_

_The sun was blazing in the sky, the beach was cooking in the 35° degree weather, the waves were crashing loudly on the shore, and Catherine was in the mood to forget her problems for a little bit. She had just broken it off with the man she had been seeing/dating/sleeping with for the past seven years or so, and the pain was still atrociously fresh, but she wasn't going to think about that. A total psychopath had threatened to kill everybody she loved, and then make her watch Steve die in front of her lest she break it off, but she wouldn't think about that either. Or about the fact that the stupid idiot had bought every single lie she had said to him despite the huge argument she'd had with him when he had actually brought them up. _

Nope, not thinking about it_,_ _Catherine lied to herself quietly._

_And because she was not thinking about it, she rammed her surf board into the sand with a little more force than strictly necessary. Laying her towel out over the sand, and placing her beach bag on top, she decided to apply another layer of sunscreen to ward off any unwanted burns in this heated weather. She couldn't quite reach every spot on her back, at least not without untangling herself from her bikini top, but that was fine. Taking her board again, she headed for the ocean, and immersed herself in its refreshing, powerful waves._

_Once she was up on the board, she thought of nothing but the exhilaration she felt with every sweet curve she painted into the water. There was nothing like the freedom awarded by riding the waves as if one were taming the treacherous, indomitable sea. Tiny droplets of water running down her body cooled her heated skin, a brisk breeze took up her hair, and pulled it in every direction, and the water looked so inviting that she dove in on purpose a couple of times before going back for more._

_During one other ride another surfer suddenly came up to her from the side. Their paths crossed, and it send them both swimming. Catherine felt the water envelop her in its yielding grip, but the crash itself was hard. She had no way of regulating the fall, and landed in the water flat on her back. The first touch still stung as if she had been whipped when she finally made it out onto the beach with her board. She looked around to find the idiot who had sent them flying, and noticed that he was struggling to get out of the water. She placed her board down in the sand forcefully again – she'd had it with idiot men for a while – and marched over to him. Hooking her leg out, and giving him a light shove at the same time she had him pinned to the sandy beach. Both her hands were on his shoulders as she glared at him. His dark eyes looked up at her with surprise and a healthy dose of concern when he saw how pissed she was. He started exhaling forcefully when the remnants of a wave crashed over him, probably getting into his nose, and Catherine finally let up._

"That should teach you to be more careful when you're surfing. Both of us could have been seriously hurt," _she said before she got off him. She didn't offer him a hand to get up before walking away, but he followed her quickly._

"You know, assault is a criminal offense," _he replied in a smooth, unconcerned tone as he joined her._

"What exactly would you call your stint on the board?! Believe me, brah, on this island, dropping in on someone's wave is the worse offense," _she retorted with a laugh._ "Besides, in the Navy we call that a love tab."

"Navy, huh?", _he murmured. _"Guess you're right. You'll have to forgive my misinterpretation, then. In my defense, I left the service a while ago."

_Catherine raised a surprised eyebrow_.

"You're a sailor?", _she asked, suddenly with a sinking feeling in her gut. This was not happening._

"Worst of the worst – a JAG lawyer," _he informed her with a smile and an extended hand._ "Now I work at a private law firm here in Honolulu. Name's Ben Foster."

"Lieutenant Catherine Rollins, and you're in good company. I'm one of the geeks, too," _she replied, taking his hand. A lawyer. Maybe he wasn't so bad_.

"For an Intelligence girl, you knock someone down with the grace of experience."

_She grinned. Yep, not so bad._

"SEAL father and brothers. I had to learn how to hold my own early on," _Catherine explained with true cheer. Her relationship with her parents may not be close anymore, but she bloody loved her father for not sending her to riding camps in the holidays, and her brothers always brought a smile to her face. Just like her adopted ones, but she wasn't thinking about that._

"You still mad at me for the wave thing?"_, Ben asked carefully, and there was a hint of something in his voice that made her feel warm and yet shiver-y as his soft dark eyes never wandered from her face despite what little she was wearing. She pretended to thinking about it for a few moments, stepping back and taking a good long look at him. He wasn't overly muscular, but still well-defined and the Hawaiian sun had clearly done wonders for his complexion. She recognized a fake tan when she saw one, and this wasn't it. He obviously came out to the beach a lot, perhaps to surf or swim. He kept in shape, and that was something she could relate to. His face was angular and handsome, his brown hair a few shades lighter than her own, and his dark eyes matched hers perfectly. All in all, very easy on the eyes as his appearance gave her no reminder of the last sailor she had spoken to._

"Yes, I am, but I'm willing to let you make it up to me," _she responded eventually with an emphatic nod. The gentle smile that had been present on his face so far grew a little self-satisfied at her answer, and she mentally snorted at the generic male ego. Nonetheless, she let him invite her to lunch, and things went on from there... _

_(End of Flashback)_

"Damn it, Ben, answer me!", Catherine bit out. "Was that day the starter's gun for the whole set up, or did Wo Fat rope you in later? And why would you do this to me anyway? What have I ever done to you?! I-"

"Nothing, you self-centered bitch. Absolutely nothing," Ben interrupted her brusquely. "Don't you get it? It was never about you; at least not for me. Wo Fat might have had it out for you, but to me you were inconsequential. I just did it for the money."

Catherine took a calming breath.

"The money?", she deadpanned. All this hurt, and it was all so he could make some cash?

"Yeah. He told me to go to the beach that day, and Michael Noshimori pointed you out to me. Then I crashed your wave, and you know the rest of the story."

Catherine closed her eyes briefly. She had suspected as much, but to hear first hand to what length Wo Fat had gone just to hurt her and Steve was an entirely different experience. All those hours talking over a lunch both of them barely touched, so wrapped up in their own little world that food seemed... as he had put it,_ inconsequential _now. She remembered the cold fury on Steve's face when he spoke to her in the car, and now she could understand it perfectly. She felt the same bile of anger rise in her stomach. It fought like a caged animal to be freed from its constraints, and unleash itself on its intended target. Once more Catherine was grateful for the location of their meeting. Had the glass wall not been there, she might not have been able to guarantee for her actions.

As it was, her hand on the small space in front of her curled into a fist, then uncurled again so she could slap her flat hand against the glass. Ben smirked slightly at her lack of restraint, and the sound caught the attention of the warden. He came over briefly to take note of the situation. Without any immediate danger, he must have decided that she was entitled to her anger, because he left again almost instantly. Catherine's jaw was set, and her lips were a pale, thin line that suggested no pity or compassion. She took her hand away from the glass, and gave Ben a disgusted look.

"I was inconsequential?... You never cared at all, did you?" Her voice was even when she spoke, but it was a question nonetheless.

"I doubt Wo Fat intended for you to live even if you hadn't screwed McGarrett. That, of course, triggered the whole messy torture business, but it would have been foolish to feel anything for you. It would have had no future."

He looked her over once.

"Still, there were a moments when I thought about asking if Wo Fat would leave you to me. You are a good woman, easy on the eyes, and not too high maintenance. I might have genuinely liked you if I hadn't, from the outset, known you were meant to die, and there were times when I thought I would like to pursue that possibility."

"I see..."

Catherine looked down, trying to gather her thought. Then, abruptly, she slammed the earpiece back into its holding device, stood up and left. She could hear Ben calling after her to visit anytime, but she had what she had come for, and vowed never to return to talk to him. She did not turn to look back at him, but simply made her way out of the room. When she opened the door, she met Steve's concerned gaze. He hadn't let the door leave his sight for an instant. She gave him a wave as a sign that they would discuss it later. For now she just wanted to get out of here, and put as many miles between herself and that – Steve had called him animal earlier, but Catherine didn't find it fitting enough – asshole as possible.

Steve followed her to his truck without protest. When they had climbed in, he grasped her hand, and squeezed it once. He drove them both home, and didn't say anything even when she marched straight through to his lanai, disposing of her shoes. Instead he got some iced tea out of the fridge, filled two glasses, and joined her. She took the glass gratefully, then looked back at the ocean for a long time while he was looking at her. The wind was playing with her hair, and even with her unreadable expression she looked stunning in the bright sunshine. He wondered what Foster had said to her that had upset her so. Then again, maybe he had merely said exactly what she expected him to say. Steve knew from personal experience that knowing something to be true, and having someone slap it in your face were two very different things. Nothing could ever quite prepare someone for the kind of pain that came from direct confrontation with and ugly matter.

She didn't need him to tell her that everything would be alright. The situation was resolved, she was getting better after her trauma, and she had gotten her answers. All she needed now was time to process them. So instead of questioning her, he reigned in his curiosity, and led her over to a sun lounger. Sitting down, he pulled her down with him, and waited for her to relax against his chest. When she did, he began caressing over her hair and cheek with a gentle hand in order to soothe her through her contemplation. After a while she turned in his embrace until she could bury her face in the crook of his neck. It was clear that she was upset even if she had already imagined Foster's answers, but she wasn't wasting another tear on the bastard, and that was something.

"I don't know whether to be angry or sad," she finally admitted. "Part of me wanted to strangle him with the phone cord, another part wanted to curl up into a ball and cry because I thought I could trust him, and he's been playing me the entire time."

Steve remained quiet to let her talk it through. Her voice was so calm, so detached that he thought a storm must surely be coming.

"The largest part, though, is just disappointed in myself. I let him play me. I should have known there was something wrong – I mean, come on, it was just too perfect. Why couldn't I see that?!", she huffed, growing louder with every word. She tore a hand through her hair none too gently, and he grabbed her wrist carefully to pull it away.

"Hey, hey, you couldn't have known. You're not a mind reader."

"Funny, Commander Klesko said the same thing." She didn't sound amused.

"Then listen to her; she's right. He played all of us, Cath."

"Yeah, but I was with him most. I should have noticed that there was something wrong. I did notice!... There were these phone calls; they always made him angry, but I thought it was just a tough case or his boss or something else at work. Looking back, it must have been instructions from Wo Fat. Probably telling him how to wrap me around his finger. I wonder how much of our time together was orchestrated by him..."

She seemed intent on beating herself up about this, but Steve wasn't having it.

"You did the right thing, Cath, you tried to move on," he told her, whispering because he could barely get the words past the bile in his throat at the thought of almost having lost her forever. "I pushed you away, and you tried to move on. That's normal; it's healthy. I was the one who hid himself in his paperwork. I had provoked it, but I couldn't handle it. You went out there and dealt with it. Don't ever feel sorry for that."

He turned her around to face him, lying half on top of him.

"You were the strong one, and I love that about you. I love you."

Catherine smiled slightly.

"You love my faults too, huh?"

She kissed him before he could answer, and as one kiss turned into two, into three, into more, they forgot all about talking to each other.

**End**

**A/N:** Not an entirely satisfying encounter for Catherine, but I just don't think something like this would have been.


	4. Five-0 Moving Inc

**More than Love**

**Summary:** Tie-in and continuation oneshots to my story Love is not enough, prompted and original ones.

**Pairings:** Steve/Cath, minor Kono/Adam and Danny/Gabby

**A/N: **The first oneshot that was corrected by Miahbug. Thank you for your help. You notice it when I leave words behind after changing the sentence half a dozen times, words that have no business being in the phrase as it is, and your suggestions are a great help in fixing awkward sentences.

**Five-0 Moving Inc.**

"This should be the last of the boxes for the kitchen," Kono announced as she came through the door with a large cardboard box that tinkled ominously. She set it down with a loud thump, and took a couple of deep, calming breaths as she tried to shake of the fatigue. They had been at it since the early morning, helping Danny move in with Gabby. They'd decided to subdivide the stuff by the living space it was supposed to go to, and somehow Kono had wound up with the kitchen. Despite the fact that Danny had effectively been living in a hotel, a surprising number of three boxes had turned up labeled kitchen. Apparently, for the great occasion Danny had bought a couple of things that should not be missing in his home. She was suddenly glad she didn't get Gracie's room.

Looking up from where he was putting away various kitchen utensils, Adam smiled at his girlfriend as he admired the blush of exertion that was spread across her features. Kono had moved to lean against the door frame, one hand moving rebellious strands of hair out of her line of sight. Her chest was heaving a bit, a fact that did wonderful things for her cleavage as she wore a loose black top. He put down whatever it was that he had grabbed out of the box, and beckoned to her to come join him. She grinned at him, giving the hallway a sinister sidelong glance. Then she purposefully moved over to the opposite end of the box he was working on, and leaned over it till her face was inches away from his.

"You're no help, you know," she whispered at him with a teasing smile. "Strong man like you, yet you let me do all the hard work."

"File a complaint with Detective Williams; I'm surprised he trusts me enough to unpack." The mischievous grin on his face took the sting out of his words.

"I might, actually. This is no way to treat a lady."

"And what is the proper way to treat a lady?"

"Let me show you."

Without another word she leaned in to bridge the last few inches until her lips were covering his, teasingly leaning away every time he tried to deepen the kiss. After a few careful kisses, they parted, still smiling at one another. Kono's hand rose to brush through his hair, then down the side of his face to his throat. Her hand rose again to trace the outer shell of his ear, lightly tickling his skin with her nails. Adam had closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling, and only opened them again when he felt her hand fall away. When he looked at her, Kono's face was serious.

"They'll come around," she said with some confidence, though Adam still thought she might be trying to convince herself. He couldn't exactly blame Five-0 for their reluctance to accept him. Chin was her cousin, he had tried to kill McGarrett's friend Joe White, and the Yakuza didn't have the best track record with law enforcement anyway. "They have to."

He lifted a hand to Kono's cheek, and caressed her slowly with his thumb.

"Don't worry about it, Kono. We're okay, we will be okay, no matter what," he assured her.

"Even after Michael?"

He knew what she was referring to. His brother's lawyer had advised to file a complaint against Kono for police brutality, to which Michael had jumped of course, and was trying to make the arrest null and void due to her involvement with Adam. He knew that Michael had tried to flee, and he believed Kono that he had attempted to hurt her. He was grateful that it had been her to deliver the news of his brother's involvement with Wo Fat, instead of some random police officer. Now she was back in legal trouble herself. Though the attorney's motion had been denied – on both accounts – her reputation had suffered, and IA was looking at her again, although sticking to the surface for now.

"I... won't say I'm not angry or disappointed, but in Michael." He looked her directly in the eyes. "I'm glad you were the one to come tell me. I can imagine how much courage that must have taken, and I'm glad you kept me in the loop afterward."

Kono smiled at him again, leaning her face into his touch and raising a hand to lay over his.

5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0

Danny and Chin were outside, unloading the last of the boxes – or at least Chin was. Danny was standing beside the car watching the house in front of him, and wondering what was going on inside. Due to the nature of their respective injuries, it was out of the question for Steve or Catherine to lift any heavy weights, so they were left unpacking, though Danny had the suspicion that Steve had scheduled his last appointment with his doctor regarding the fissure purposefully after Danny's move-in with Gabby. He hadn't wanted Adam running around God knew where, so he had assigned him the kitchen area, and, unsurprisingly, Kono had picked up the boxes belonging there. Gabby was currently getting them some lunch from a nearby restaurant; they would have delivered, but self-collectors got a ten percent discount. Let nobody say that he didn't read the small print. Everyone had rolled their eyes, but Gabby had kissed him on the cheek, and gone anyway.

"Danno, why are you letting Uncle Chin do all the work?" Grace's voice brought him back out of his reverie, and he looked down with an offended expression. She, in turn, pointed at Chin, and explained. "Uncle Chin told me to ask you that."

Now Danny threw Uncle Chin an offended look.

"See, brah, you were day-dreaming, and dreaming doesn't lift heavy boxes," Chin told him, not very apologetic, and dropped one of said heavy boxes into his arms. Danny gripped it with an 'oof', and started walking toward the house. Chin followed him closely while Grace sprinted ahead with her youthful enthusiasm. The fact that she wasn't carrying anything also helped in putting a spring to her step. Upon entering the house, they made their way to his daughter's room where they found Catherine currently attempting to reassemble Gracie's stair-shaped shelve. Steve was sitting at the desk, watching his girlfriend labor.

When Danny and Chin entered, both looked up. Catherine rolled her eyes, indicating the SEAL with her head in a way that had both members of the task force snorting.

"Well, at least we didn't find you smooching," Danny commented drily.

"We would never, Danny, at least not in Gracie's room. Can't make any promises about the kitchen."

"I can," Catherine added.

"Cath, you know I have to stay off my arm until the doctor has cleared me," Steve told her, attempting to sound totally innocent, and failing. Danny's suspicions confirmed, he set the box down right in front of his partner, and told him to make himself useful once the shelf was up by putting school books and DVDs back where they belong. Then he sat down to help Catherine while Chin went to retrieve the last box.

"You think Chin is comfortable?", Steve asked out of the blue.

"Are anyone of us. I don't really feel comfy while Adam Noshimori is in my home, especially with Grace."

"You two are exaggerating. From how Kono's described him, he sounds nice."

"Yeah, well, she'd be a bit biased, wouldn't she?" Steve reminded her.

"And you three aren't?", Catherine countered without missing a beat as she kept fiddling with the shelf. It was progressing faster now that she had someone else to hold the boards in place while she aligned them, and put them together.

"She thought Ben was nice, t-", Danny started, then wanted to bite his tongue off when both his friends glowered at him. Not the best topic, especially after their recent visit to Halawa. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean... I just meant to say that appearances can be deceiving."

"Not everyone is like Ben," the Navy Lieutenant said firmly. "That being said, asks yourselves this, has he given you any reason to doubt him – and I don't mean perceived ones. I mean reasons you can be sure of."

"No," Steve admitted, but that didn't mean they had to like him.

At that moment Gracie came dancing into the room, followed by a fidgeting Chin, bringing in the last box of clothes. As Grace began unpacking, unperturbed, all three adults looked up expectantly at Chin who kept throwing glances towards the kitchen. He seemed somewhat disturbed, and they figured it had something to do with Adam. He finally noticed their stares, and gestured down the hall as he sighed loudly.

"Remember what you said about them,"- here he indicated Steve and Catherine - "not kissing? Well..."

"It was sweet," Grace said with glee. "They looked just like Danno and Auntie Gabby. Auntie Kono and Uncle Adam really like each other. They look so cute together."

5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0

_(A little earlier, kitchen)_

Feeling the smooth skin of her cheek pressed further into his hand, and watching her eyes close at the sensation, made his heart pick up speed. The work now totally forgotten, he slowly walked around the cardboard box between them until he came to stand directly in front of her. She must have felt the shift, because her arms came around him without opening her eyes. He smiled at her, watched and waited as she waited for him to lean in to kiss her. When the kiss didn't come, Kono opened her eyes, only to suddenly find his lips on hers, and her eyes fluttered close again. He pulled her into him, and cradled the back of her head in his hand.

"Oh, sorry!", an embarrassed voice squeaked.

The couple sprung apart, and turned to Grace.

"No, we're sorry, Gracie. We didn't mean to... startle you," Kono apologized. "Uh... I don't think you've met yet. This is Adam. Adam, this is Grace."

"Hello, Grace."

"Hello." The little girl sounded a bit unsure when an idea visibly popped into her head. "Are you Auntie Kono's boyfriend."

The two adults looked at each other. "Yes. Yes, I am."

"Do you love her?" The question was out of her mouth before Grace could stop herself, but Uncle Steve's girlfriend had just gotten hurt by another man, and because nobody would tell her the details, she knew it must have been bad. She didn't want Auntie Kono to go through the same thing, too.

"I do. Very much," Adam answered her, but was looking at Kono.

Grace's soft brown eyes lit up in childlike delight, and she sprung forward to envelop him in a hug, talking a hundred miles an hour about how she was so happy to meet him, and that they would get along great, asking whether he liked surfing and shave ice – and, oh, Kamekona made the best shave ice on the island, and she's been allowed to test new flavors while fleecing him and his cousins at candy poker.

"Kamekona has a shrimp truck, too. Every time I go surfing with Auntie Kono and Kawika, we stop by for some shrimp. It's great. You should come sometime, Uncle Adam... Oh."

It was hard to tell who was more surprised as Kono looked from her boyfriend to Grace and, if she'd had a mirror, she might have wanted to take a look at her own face, too. She could feel the tingling sparkles already; she was happy that Gracie had taken so well to Adam so soon. Of course, she didn't know about the Yakuza and Adam's past, and she was only eight, but she was a bright young girl, and her opinion meant a lot more to Kono than she had previously expected.

"Uhm...", Grace piped up again. "Is it okay if I call you Uncle Adam? You're with Auntie Kono, so it... uh...just happened, but if you don't want..."

"I'd be honored."

Uncle Adam's answer had her giggling.

5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0 5-0

The pizzas Gabrielle brought home were met with a certain amount of trepidation by everyone, but by none more than Adam. While the women chatted away in the kitchen, getting plates and beer and purposefully playing perfect housewives to leave the men to talk amongst themselves, Five-0 and Adam were stuck together in the living room. While Adam wasn't sure whether he found this amusing or horrifying, he was certainly anxious enough for the latter. By the constant glances at the entrance to the kitchen and the nervous tapping of fingers on wood, however, the other men didn't fare any better though, and that made up for a lot of it on Adam's part. Everyone seemed ready for the evening to end. Finally, graciously the women sat down with them, Grace in tow. Kono's hand immediately laid itself over his, rubbing comforting circles over his skin. Adam clung to it like one would a lifeline.

Dinner was an awkward and mostly silent affair. There were a few attempts at small talk by Kono, Gabrielle and Catherine to which Adam was most responsive, and of course Grace asked the business man questions at a hundred miles an hour. The little girl wanted to know everything, how he and Kono had met, when they had started dating, if they were planning to stay together forever. All the questions brought at least a small smile to Steve's face as he remembered Grace asking the same of him and Catherine the first time they were all together. Conversation soon faded when Grace was sated and bored, and asked to be released from the table. While she went to explore her father's new home and play in the garden, the adults lapsed back into silence until Adam took a deep breath to speak his mind.

"I know you don't like me, don't trust me, and don't approve of Kono and I being together. I say I want to turn my family's business legit, but it's going slow, and I know that must look like stalling to you, but I really am working on it. I'm trying to turn it all around, but the families in Japan are watching, and if I make a wrong move, my brother won't be the last to try to put things back to where they were. I'm doing this for Kono, so that she can be proud of me."

The young woman in question squeezed his hand, and laid the other one on his arm.

"But I'm also doing this for myself. I don't want to look over my shoulder every day worrying that either the cops or another criminal family will come for me. I don't want to have to fake my death, and I want to be able to look at my reflection without wondering how many people have been hurt or killed or worse because of me."

He leaned back into the chair as if he needed it for the support it could provide. He turned his head to look at Kono, her expression was as open and vulnerable as his own. She squeezed his hand again, and he turned his around until he could hold her hand, placing the other atop both of theirs. Then he focused his attention once more on the people who were evaluating him, judging him. He knew that Catherine and Gabrielle were willing to go on a little faith because they trusted their friend's instincts. The men didn't have any less faith in Kono, they just felt very protective of her. She was the youngest and the newest to the job, and she was ohana, a little sister they wanted to shelter whether she needed it or not. Adam drew his gaze from one face to the other until it fell on Chin. Of all the people in the room, this man's opinion was the most important to him. He was Kono's cousin, he grew up with her and he knew her best, and so he was the first to speak.

"You're right; we do find it hard to trust you. You have proven capable of extremely bad choices," he said with a hard look at Adam, and it was obvious that he was talking about tying Kono up and trying to kidnap and torture Wo Fat. "I can't say if you're really trying to change your business, but you did save Kono's life. In HQ you seemed truly disappointed in your brother for his part in Catherine's kidnapping and the recent murder spree, and yet you stood by him and got him a lawyer."

Adam flinched. He should have known this would come up, and that Five-0 would not look upon it favorably. Michael was a criminal and he'd been wrong, but he was still Adam's little brother. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't just abandon his little brother; he couldn't betray Michael like that. It would make him just as bad as the man himself. Michael's betrayal had cut Adam deeply, but Adam was sure his own betrayal would hurt even worse. He fixated his eyes on Chin trying to make him understand. Chin's gaze softened.

"He is your ohana, and I can respect a man who is loyal to his family." Chin extended a hand which Adam took with slight trepidation. They exchanged a long look, then shook hands once. Looking around the table, Adam saw McGarrett and Williams nod solemnly, Five-0 then stood up from the table, and made to leave.

"Kono," McGarrett caught his friend's attention. She looked up at him. His face was serious, but it lacked the harshness one would have expected considering the topic. "We just want you to be happy. As long as you are, we are good."

"Yeah, kid," Danny chimed in. "You know you don't need our permission, but we're here if you need us." Kono nodded, and Williams turned to Adam. "And you better treat her like a princess."

Without waiting for a response now that he had said his piece, Danny called Grace inside while Steve grabbed Catherine's purse and Chin pulled his motorcycle helmet off the dresser. Almost as if they all were old friends, the party broke up in a flurry of sudden activity with smiles and laughs aplenty. Kono got up as well, and Adam followed her movements slightly mechanically. Everything was not fine, though it was much better than before. Chin's hand had been a peace-offering, but all peace-offerings came with conditions. They would all try for Kono's sake, but certainly only as long as he proved himself worthy. If he did go back to his family's old ways, Adam was sure Five-0 would come to take him down, never mind all the pizzas and beers they may yet share.

**End**

**A/N:** I don't think they'll easily be comfortable with Adam; we saw some tension even in the season finale when kono announced that she would leave with Adam. Still, I like to think that they can learn to be civil, friendly even.

Anyone got an idea what that Lieutenant Commander Harrison (was that his name?) talking to Cath after she hung up with Steve was doing there? It didn't seem to make sense in the story to introduce a character only to make him disappear instantly. And what about Amsterdam, I wonder. Anyway, sorry for the long wait, and i hope you liked the oneshot.


End file.
